


WPaRG Intermission: Robinson R&D

by chelonianmobile, MultiFanGirlWickedPony, Writearoundchic



Series: WPaRG [45]
Category: Disney - All Media Types, Meet the Robinsons (2007), Phineas and Ferb, RWBY, The Great Mouse Detective (1986), Wallace & Gromit
Genre: Comedy, Dramatic Irony, Gen, trigger warnings will apply later
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-12-10
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:28:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27608998
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chelonianmobile/pseuds/chelonianmobile, https://archiveofourown.org/users/MultiFanGirlWickedPony/pseuds/MultiFanGirlWickedPony, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writearoundchic/pseuds/Writearoundchic
Summary: While Wilbur's story was happening, here's what was going on at Cornelius' company.
Series: WPaRG [45]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1665667
Kudos: 10





	1. Chapter 1

“What do you mean I’m not invited?”

It was four-thirty pm on a Friday evening. Almost all of the people present looked like they wanted to head home after taking care of one last item of business.

“Well, it’s not that you’re not invited to the meeting. You can still come. You’re just… not allowed to suggest anything.”

“And why not?”

It was Hiram who spoke up next. “Well… you see, Heinz… it’s not that we don’t value your contributions, it’s just… look, this project is probably the biggest thing that we’ll attach any of our names to, and… you tend to have a certain… style when you go about naming things and-”

“There’s no way we’re letting you talk us into calling it the Energy Car-inator.”

All eyes turned to Wallace, who was skimming through some papers. He looked up when he noticed the stares. “… What? Am I wrong?”

“Well, there’s no need to be so blunt about it,” Pietro said, “but… yes, Heinz. We probably won’t be doing that.”

“I don’t want to hear that from someone who named his daughter Nickel!”

“I didn’t know Penny was a girl yet!”

“That is issue number _six_ with that name.”

“Okay, that’s a good point,” Wallace said. “Pietro, you aren’t naming anything either.”

“Ah, now look what you went and did,” he groaned, slumping in his chair.

“Well at least I have some company.”

“I think we should call it Gladys.”

“Cornelius, I will pay you not to call it that.”

“… What about Mildred?”

“We are not calling a car a people name. That’s like naming your cat… Steve. It’s just not right!”

“Well, alright then, Mr. Wise Guy.” Heinz looked up at Wallace. “What do you think we should call it?”

“Okay, ‘ear me out…” Wallace held up his hands. “This car mostly runs on pure solar energy, right? So it relies on the power of the sun?”

“… Yes, why?”

“Well… I say we ought to call it the Sun Power.”

“I don’t…” Cornelius shut his mouth, absorbing the pun all the way. “No.”

“Oh, come on-”

“No. I’m reasonably sure whatever you just said counts as a sin and I’m going to pray for you, I hope you know.”

“I thought you weren’t religious.”

“I’m going to let Franny’s brothers convert me to Catholicism. And then I’m going to pray for you. Because that _pun_ ,” he enunciated, “is a sin.”

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“Yes it was.”

Heinz raised his hand. “What about the Sun Power-inator?”


	2. Chapter 2

“Never thought I’d say this, but it’s good to be… back…”

It was nine o’ clock on a Monday morning and Wallace Herbertson had just come into Robinson Labs with a little of the weekend sun still reddening his face and the back of his head. It was quiet though, when he came in; and everyone’s eyes were very cold.

“Alright, who died?”

“No one… yet. Not until we explain this to the shareholders.”

“… Okay… so what happened?”

Cornelius sighed. “You’re going to want to sit down for this.”

“I’d… actually rather not.” At everyone’s stares he shrugged. “Wild weekend. Hard chairs are a bit of a no for me at the moment. Amazing what the missus can do…”

“Okay, one; we did not need to know that. Two; at least lean on something or you’re going to fall.”

Wallace rolled his eyes. “Oh please. How bad could this possibly-”

“Wilbur left the garage door open, one car got stolen, he drove the other one into a tree broke his arm.”

“WHAT?!”

“I…” Cornelius groaned, rubbing his temples. “It’s my own fault for assuming he could handle the responsibility. Apparently he was trying to catch the guy who took it, but…” A deep and heavily weighted sigh. “He wasn’t hurt too badly besides that, but… the damage is done and the car was totalled.”

“Oh… Oh my G-…” Wallace stumbled his way over to the sofa that sat along one wall, nearly upsetting the nearby potted fern sitting down. “So we’re, what… two million in the hole?”

Pietro shook his head. “Three million, maybe more.”

“And the car was completely destroyed? There’s no way we can… repair it?”

“I don't think we have all the pieces.”

“… Pardon me for just a moment.”

Wallace walked over to the bathroom. The door shut and they heard the muffled sounds of “Goddamn motherfucking teenager! Fuck! Fuck! Shit shit shit shit shit God _damn_ it!”

He walked out of the bathroom a few moments later. “Okay. Okay. I’m calm.”

“… Are you?”

“Yes. Just had to get that out of me system.”

“Good to know.”

A long, long exhale. “Okay. Okay. So… what now?”

“That’s what we were discussing.” Thin lips from Cornelius. “Someone’s going to have to explain this to the shareholders.”

“I vote we draw straws,” Heinz suggested. “Whoever draws the shortest straw is the one who has to do it.”

“You know, they suggested drawing straws for who’d be killed in the Donner party. The fellow who suggested it was the one who drew the short straw.”

All eyes turned to Hiram.

“What?”

“Okay, well, the shareholders probably aren’t going to _kill_ us,” Pietro said. “Probably.”

Heinz crossed his arms. “I wouldn’t be so sure. Ugh… Why couldn’t you have had a normal child?”

“Trust me,” Cornelius grimaced, “right now I’m wondering that myself.”

“Ouch.”

“Yes, well…” He shook his head hard enough that his glasses nearly slid off the end of his nose. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with him.”

“Have you considered taking ‘im to get ‘is head examined?” Wallace burst out. “Is ‘e insane?”

“Wallace, he’s thirteen.”

“Fair point. They’re all insane at that age. Still, what the fffffffffflip are we going to tell the company?! They’ll have us hanged!” Wallace rubbed his neck. “Or worse… they’ll take our health insurance!”

“Wallace, we are not going to lose health coverage.”

“You don’t know that!” He marched up to Cornelius. “Your son just cost the company three million dollars! Do you have any idea how much money that is?! We’re all doomed!”

“Maybe not!” Hiram butted in quickly. “We could still… You reported it as stolen, didn’t you? We didn’t have it patented, but we still have all the plans and… and everything. We should still be able to prove it was ours if… if… worse comes to worst.”

“If they try to sell it locally! What if they ship it off somewhere where they don’t care about trademarks? What if they decide to have it broken down for scrap?! This is bad!” Wallace snapped, almost shouting. “This is really, really bad!”

“I know that! But… but losing our heads over it isn’t going to accomplish anything, is it? We need to think about this from a logical-”

“Logical? How do you expect me to be logical?! Nothing about this situation makes _sense_!”


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> (Note: Hiram's adopted a kid, along with his bio kid Olivia, we'll get more about them in soon.)

“So how was Art’s birthday dinner?”

In the end they did not lose health coverage. It was eleven o’clock on a Tuesday and the first break in paperwork that Team Robinson had had all day. Flint Lockwood pushed the door open back-first, balancing a cardboard tray of coffees, craning his neck to meet the boss’s eyes as the others looked on with some amusement… except for Carl, the senior intern, who looked away and coughed sharply into his hand.

“It was fun. Someone came over to the table and embarrassed my brother-in-law by singing. So that was nice.”

“Shame I couldn’t be there,” Wallace said absentmindedly as he started to sip his coffee.

“That reminds me. How is your family? Food poisoning, you said?”

Wallace shuddered. “They’re doing better, but… yeah, they really got the worst of it yesterday.”

“How’d you not get sick?”

“I never get food poisoning. It’s one of the odd things about me.”

“One of, you got that right,” Heinz muttered.

“A lesser man might take offense to that,” he snorted. “So another year, eh? Remind me again, is he older or younger than-”

“Older,” Cornelius said. “All of Franny’s brothers are older.”

“Ah. She has my sympathies there."

“I wouldn’t be so sure,” Heinz groaned. “Being the oldest is no picnic.”

“Well, I’m almost glad to be an only child.” Carl smiled, but it looked strained.

Wallace noticed. “Are you alright?”

“Oh, he’s been a little off since the weekend,” Cornelius shrugged. “I think he feels guilty.”

“About what?”

“Leaving my son behind.”

Pietro looked up. “You didn’t bring Wilbur?”

“No. He’s still grounded, and he’s going to stay grounded for… a while, I think.”

“Can’t blame you there,” Wallace whistled. “I think my father would 'ave killed me if I’d done something like this at his age.” He looked almost questioningly at Cornelius, who sighed.

“Not yet,” he said testily. “Not yet…”

“How’s he doing anyway?” Pietro asked. “Keeping his head down?”

“If only. It hasn’t been anything as big as, well, the car incident but I think he’s… I don’t know, maybe it’s puberty. He’s been moody since we came back on Friday. And somehow he did something to rebreak his arm.”

“How? I thought it was in a cast.”

“Sling, actually, and your guess is as good as mine. It’s like Wallace said,” he rolled his eyes, “teenagers…”

Wallace blinked. “I don’t know… you’re sure nothing else is going on?”

“What do you-”

“Takes a bit to rebreak an arm, even one that’s still healing. You sure there’s not something going on…” Wallace tapped his head. “You know?”

“Wallace, I don’t need you saying my son is crazy-”

“I’m not saying 'e is! Just… teenagers tend to 'ave stuff in the brain. Depression, anxiety… It can lead to them…” Wallace awkwardly bit his lip. “You know… doing things to themselves.”

Cornelius shook his head. “Wallace, my boy is thirteen-”

“When my oldest was thirteen I had to get her in therapy for depression,” Hiram spoke up. “She actually still takes antidepressants, and she’s fifteen now.”

“I think Mr. Herbertson has a good point,” Carl said. “He has been acting-”

“Only since the weekend.” Cornelius shrugged. “Look, I’ll think it over, but… even if I thought Wilbur was, ah, hurting himself, I’m sure kids don’t… well, there are easier ways to go about it, right? Easier than rebreaking a broken arm.”

“Erm, Cornelius, we just agreed the kid wasn’t really… normal…”

“I’ll think about it.” He didn’t look like he would.

“Oh, well. 'E could just be sulking,” Wallace sighed. “They’re all so sensitive at that age. I think it’s hormones. Anyway-”

And just like that, the matter dropped.


	4. Chapter 4

“I’m going to murder Gromit.”

It was 8:30 on a Wednesday and Wallace Herbertson was early and looked like he meant what he said.

Heinz looked up, blinking sluggishly around the coffee fog that had sustained him through the all-nighter before. “Why…?”

“The boy’s insane! They’re all insane, I swear! What is _wrong_ with teenagers?!”

“Hormones… growing pains… whatever kind of hell high school is…”

“Puberty?”

“What makes you say he’s insane?”

“ ‘E’s got a stalker!” A slight pause. “… That’s not what makes ‘im insane.”

“Then wha-”

“It’s that ‘e didn’t _tell_ me!” Wallace continued over Carl. “Me boy didn’t go to the police, and ‘e didn’t tell me, or Wilhelmina… I swear, I’m gonna murder ‘im!”

“So you're going to kill your son for not telling you he was in danger…?” Carl said slowly.

“I don’t know! Maybe!” Wallace puffed, looking over at some of the other men in the room - fathers. “Look, what would you do if it was one of yours?”

“I think I’d be more worried about the stalker matter, if I’m to be honest,” Hiram said. “Not that I don’t understand where you’re coming from, but…”

“I can strangle 'im _and_ Gromit,” Wallace grumbled. “God gave me two hands, didn’t ‘E?”

“Yes, well, this all seems very productive,” Cornelius groaned.

“Oh, like _your_ son tells you everything.”

“Wallace, Wilbur is thirteen. How much do you think he’s getting up to behind my back?”

“I dunno, why don’t we ask the two cars and three million dollars ‘e managed to lose us overnight?”

Cornelius was quiet for a while. “You know what?” he said finally. “That’s fair.”


End file.
